Stand in the Sun
by Aiko Isari
Summary: "The difference between survival and life is in the choices you make." For Ash, that's the simple reality of it all. When she's given a strange Charmander, she can stay home, or go outside. To follow the path her dreams want her to take, she chooses to go. And that's the fun part of it.


**_A/N:_**Well then, this is going to be fun. This is a test run of this fic. I think, like it is, this is going to work. Another anime AU, from me, but again,will probably only follow the anime rather loosely. There will be snippets from other sources as well, related to backstory and the like, mostly the more popular mangas.

Challenges: Rule 63, Novel With Prompts (for the prompt "rain), Diversity Challenge (character facets AU), and Story Starter challenge, with the first line from user The Light's Refrain. Thanks for that line! Pretty sure I've covered them.

Warnings: Um... Well, Ash is transgender, and will be referred to as she, and that will be a central theme of the story, along with what it entails, swearing as the characters get older, slurs may be used, hints of romance, events that are harmful to minors, and... canon-typical violence. That's it, really.

_**EDIT: Giving credit where credit is due! Forgot to mention this idea was adopted from Naomi Shihoin. Thanks for letting me have it, though I don't think you're expecting what I'm going to do with it.**_

Okay, groundwork done! Let's start with the actual first arc of the story! Please read and review and let me know what you think! Thanks! And please inform me if the transgender experience seems utterly out of whack. I grew up with someone who was trans, but I understand that everyone's experience is very different.

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><p><strong>chapter one<strong>

_Where does the rain fall?_

The rain slid down the glass like many tears.

The summer storm was gentle now, building towards the boundless temper of thunder and lightning that it tended towards on summer days. She watched it fall, staring through the glass door at the grey sky. Somewhere, it was snowing more than it was raining.

Young Ash, seven-years-old, watched it fall, decorating the grass like dew. Her hand tightened on the ladle she was stirring with, eyes still on the outside rain. but her gaze shifted, the sight in front of her blurring away to a sunny place, where the wind blew slow, gentle breezes into her hair.

"Ash," she heard her mother say, as though from the other side of the house. "Leave that pot to rest a minute. Come chop the herbs."

The little girl nodded, pulling herself back to the rainy evening with a jerk of her head, chewing on her lip in that cautious bad habit she had formed after too many emotional outbursts (well, too many according to Mom). She wiped her hands on a clean cloth, then picked up the knife in her small hands. Chopping slowly, she let her mind wander again to the smell of an odd liquid, like mushy apples and the filling of Mago Berry pie, of muddled voices and someone, a child laughing. Innocent laughter, Pokemon laughter.

Her eyes slid shut slowly, putting the knife aside by reflex. Drumming her fingers against the counter top, Ash let the other noises fade like the television when she was falling asleep.

The voices… whoever they were, they sounded like they were having fun… A lazy grin passed over her face, until her shirt was yanked back and she almost fell off of the stool.

"Ash!"

She jumped, startled. "Mo-om!" she whined, broken from her stupor. "I was _thinking_!"

Delia's expression was stern, solemn. "I bet you were thinking about something _other_ than the knife and the food you were cutting, weren't you?"

Ash flushed, tan face darkening. "Well… I…" She hedged, toying with excuses in her mind, before her shoulders sagged. "Yeah…"

Delia pinched her daughter's nose. "You could have cut yourself."

Ash almost visibly drooped. She didn't know her mother for being fussy and worried about very much on a regular basis, other than general safety, food care, and self-esteem. Oh, and Pokemon, but every parent in the area fussed about Pokemon. Pallet Town had a reputation for great trainers. "Sorry..."

Delia mussed her hair, stern expression fading slowly into a smile. "If you're going to get distracted, step away. Bloody wounds can get you in trouble in the wild."

Ash nodded. "Sorry," she repeated. "I just... i dunno. I heard a bunch of voices and they were talking about the sky...and-" She decided to stop as her mother's expression descended further into discomfort. Not that her mother didn't believe her, but she was starting to _worry_. Ash fidgeted with more discomfort. "Mom, I-"

"Take off your necklace." The woman's voice was calm, and reminded her daughter of those rare times where she had gotten _in trouble for real_, like when she had misread the laundry directions or over-fertilized the tomatoes or accidentally left the gate open for a herd of breeding Tauros and Miltank to escape the Oak Corral. Ash wrapped her fingers around the gold and silver necklace, tracing the smooth, center stones around it with her thumb and index finger. Confused, she did as she was told, staring at it, then up at her mother again. "Mom?"

Mom smiled. "Sorry, Ash. But you've heard me discuss it with your father, his grandparents even warned him it wasn't a kid's toy."

Ash still had no clue what that had to do with her wearing it, but nodded, slipping it into a pocket of her shorts. If Mom wanted her to keep it off, she would keep it off. She was Mom, after all. A smell caught Ash's attention and she sniffed. "Mom, is that the meat?" It smelled like seasoning and smoke.

Her mother laughed. "Trust you to get your nose stuck on the food."

"We're cooking!" Her voice was both protest and playful whine, and it caused her mother to smile again and that helped Ash ease her shoulders.

"Well, Ash, it's more like _I _am. _You're_ just daydreaming."

Ash pouted. "Mo-om!"

"Wha-_at_?" Delia chuckled. "Go wash up so I can take out the silverware."

Ash stuck out her tongue and went to obey. The sensations from before had faded somewhat. Yet all through dinner, her chest ached. Ash tried to push it away, savoring the grilled meat or the berry sprigs on her plate. But her eyes itched and she eventually had to push it away and leave the table before she cried into the soup. Not that she knew why. Maybe it was like that superstition that people cried on rainy days and that was why she was so out of it.

"Make sure the bath water's extra hot," she heard her mother call from the stairs. "It'll help you relax."

"Okay!"

Inside the bathroom, she undressed and looked at herself in the mirror. Dissatisfaction pulled at her face and she tugged at the short spikes of hair with her bitten nails and scowled at herself.

God... did she have to look like her dad, all awkward and...what was that word her mother used... gangly? She wanted to look cute. She liked cute… well, she liked cool, too, but she didn't look that either.

Ash glared at herself, at her physical _not-rightness_, and went to go sit in the tub. She dangled her pendant over a nearby hook, staring at the glimmering light from the middle of each stone. _Where did dad even find this thing?_ They had said it was some weird region called Kalos or something, where they were working on cementing the discovery of a new type or whatever.

Normally, Mom loved whatever her father brought home from his journey (whenever he came home, which was about as often as a blue moon), but this wasn't the same. She was always… she guessed the word would be mindful. She hated words sometimes. They were so complicated and painful and awkward. Shaking her head, she watched the tub steam before stepping into it.

Ash sat in the water for a while, thinking absently. And the smell from before dinner filled her, this time rotting, cold. This time, there was no more laughter. Her chest chilled and gooseflesh pimpled her arms despite the steaming water. She slunk under the water, staring at the mirror. Her vision faded from it and she found herself floating in the dark.

A dress billowed about her legs, plain and white. She was floating somewhere, a place that used to have features and voices, but didn't anymore. Even the twinkling stars were vanishing, fading like the sparks from a fire.

And so, she realized, was she.

There was a smile on her face like everything was okay and she didn't know why she was wearing it. Facing her was… something. A Pokemon, a person? A thing? And it was crying. In some way, she was making someone cry. Or was she watching someone cry through the eyes of somebody else? Ash felt her head spinning as her mouth moved of its own accord.

"_Stay alive, okay? I'm sure it will be fun!"_

The air rippled and sobbed with pain and her head exploded because whoever this person was, they were dying and she could do nothing, nothing at all and she was right there with the one who was crying and they were-

"_Answer me, Amber! Come back!"_

She burst from the bath, clutching her mouth and vaulting the toilet open. Her pendant dangled around her neck a she continued to retch. The tears fell through squeezed eyes and she couldn't wipe them away, coughing and spitting until her mouth was clean. She rubbed at her eyes until they hurt, sniffling.

"_COME BACK!"_

Ash felt her stomach beginning to roil again and her mother was there now, scooping her up and leaning her over the toilet and rubbing her back as she dry-heaved. Her cheeks flushed, humiliated.

"_COME BACK!"_

The pain spread from her head to her entire body and she coughed, falling back against her mother. It felt like something wanted to _push _itself out of her but it didn't know where to go. She felt like she was bleeding somewhere and soon it didn't matter because the pain was _everywhere._

When her body finally calmed, and she could breathe without whimpering, Ash let her mother lift her and carry her to bed. The voices were fading, slowly going into darkness.

"Mom?" she croaked out. "Am I sick?"

Her mother shushed her gently and tucked her into bed. "No, Ash, just a stomach bug I think. I'll get you some seltzer water in a minute."

"Someone just died…" Had they? Had someone died? Someone named Amber…

Her mother's hand remained threaded through her messy hair. "What do you mean?"

Ash blinked at her through the fuzzy darkness of the room. "A little girl in a dress…" _Like I want to be_.

"A little girl like you?" Her mother prompted, and despite the situation, her heart swelled a little.

"Her and some other thing, they were in the dark, and she faded away, and there was crying…" she closed her eyes. "I couldn't stop the crying…"

Delia smiled a little. "They wouldn't want you to cry for that."

Ash felt her mother's hand leave her head. She didn't see it, her eyes were closing. She didn't want to sleep, but she was tired from being sick and scared and _useless_. "I couldn't help… I couldn't help Amber…"

If Ash had been a little more awake, she would have seen her mother's face blanch a little. But the woman pressed her lips to her daughter's forehead and stood when she saw her face ease into sleep. Then, she strode out of the room, and after a change of clothes, out of the house, locking it behind her. She hurried through the rain outside and towards the ranch not too far away. Tucking her hood further over her head, Delia twisted her lip and kept moving forward in her boots. In one fist, she clutched her daughter's pendant, glimmering even in the lack of bright light.

Reaching the cobblestoned path, she hurried up to the professor's door and knocked. Delia shivered in the cold until the doorknob clicked and turned. What greeted her was not the aging professor, but the small form of a child with spiked hair. He stared at her, puzzled.

Delia smiled. "Good evening, Gary. Is your grandpa awake?"

Gary nodded again, and stepped aside. She paused as she passed to muss his hair and this got a nice pout in return. She didn't like seeing him so solemn, nor Ash, really. But Gary had better reason than Ash, at least.

"Where's Ash?"

She hadn't expected the question tonight, considering the two of them had spent the past three months avoiding each other. Something to do with fishing, she hadn't asked.

"She's sick, just a bit of a stomach bug." He was young enough to wrinkle his nose at the idea of bugs and being sick and it made her smile again. "She'd probably like to see you when she's feeling better. We'll drop by, okay?"

Gary looked away at this, and scuffed his foot, and Delia was tempted to ask about what had happened now but the professor shuffled out at that moment, dusting off his jacket. "I thought i heard your voice, Delia. Come and dry off. What were you doing out in this rain?"

She hung up her coat and followed him into the room. "Ash," she said softly, squeezing out her skirt. He had seen her as a young girl with her teeth kicked in, so she didn't feel any indecency.

"What's wrong with her?" His tone was sharp and Delia paused a moment to thank god that the professor had a progressive mind and said "she".

"Stomach bug," she replied, flicking her eyes at Gary, who was now growing extremely uncomfortable.

Thankfully, the old professor seemed to notice. "Gary, would you do me a favor and check on the basement. The Pokemon don't like the storms as much as you do."

His grandson's face brightened, pleased at being involved in the 'adult jobs' she guessed, and ran out of the room.

Oak waited until his footfalls faded before returning to looking at her. "What happened to her?"

Delia grimaced. "She was distracted all afternoon. Would have cut herself if she wasn't careful. After dinner, she went to take a bath. Next thing I know, she's vomiting and crying and curled on the floor." She dangled her daughter's pendant on two fingers. "This thing hasn't stopped shining. My husband got it from relatives in Kalos a few weeks ago."

"So, you believe the issue is this... or the stones inside of it." Oak crossed his arms. "Has she acted like this around it before?" He had never seen Ash with it outside; the girl had probably been afraid to break it.

Delia bit her lip. "Once or twice. She tends to stop paying attention more often when she has it on. I took it from her tonight and she seemed peaky." She sighed. "Do you think my Ash is cursed somehow?"

"That's a very dangerous train of thought, Delia." The professor shook his head and examined the stones more thoroughly. "And an unlikely one. Curses don't come cheaply. Besides, couldn't it just be your genes kicking in?"

Delia scowled, despite herself. "Somehow, that's even _less_ comforting."

Oak chuckled. "From what I can tell, your family's livelihood has served you rather well, Delia. Anyway… these stones… I swear I've seen some like them before. There's an apprentice of Rowan's out in Kalos, i'll ask him to take a look into it."

Delia pocketed the necklace with a nod. "There's… one more thing." She fidgeted. "My memory could be faulty, but do you remember your colleague out in Lavender? The one who was supposed to move here?"

"Fuji?" Professor Oak nodded. "He's been reclusive since the death of his daughter. Haven't heard much more from him than the Pidgey at their nests. Why do you ask?"

"Do you remember the girl's name?" Delia felt a chill run up her spine and the room shrunk outside of her view.

Oak paused. "I believe I played with the lass once… Amber, was it?" Seeing Delia's face whiten, he rose. "Delia? What's wrong?"

The woman paused to recollect herself. "Ash saw a girl named Amber," she finally said. "She said 'I couldn't help Amber.'"

"That could mean anything at all," the professor pointed out, nonetheless looking uncomfortable.

"i know," Delia said quietly."But he was always a rather… _ambitious_ man, wasn't he? Fuji? All of those theories and papers he showed you..."

"Yes," Oak agreed, though reluctant, wringing his hands a bit. "He was never the same after she died either… I hope he hasn't done anything he'll regret."

Delia looked out the window, hoping the same. But sitting here, watching the rain fall, something in her heart told her that, if she had lost a child, her Ash, regrets wouldn't matter in the least.

And neither would morals.

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><p>Far away, in a laboratory no one could trace, inside a tube, something began to form. A humanoid creature.<p>

A human child.

And closer to the mountains of Kanto, a Pokemon stirred from sleep, and took to wandering again.

As was Mew's wont.


End file.
